


Bison: One Person's Journey to Understand the Americas' National Treasure

by RedLlamas



Category: Homework - Fandom, Jaguar by Alan Rabinowitz, Original Work
Genre: American Prairie Reserve, F/F, Gen, Homework, Other, POV First Person, Sioux Nation, bison, montana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-28 20:12:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 12,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13911306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLlamas/pseuds/RedLlamas
Summary: For a year and a half, zoologist Duke Umaña lived in Montana, studying bison in order to amass data concerning their health and ongoing status.Bisonis the story of their many adventures in the field as they tangle with the people and the Sioux Natives — all while helping save the mythic bovine. In the end, they manage to gain a better understanding of the animal. At a time where there are so many environmental tragedies,Bisonis the unforgettable success story of what one determined person has achieved.This summary, title, and general feeling is heavily inspired by Dr. Alan Rabinowitz'sJaguar: One Man's Battle to Establish the World's First Jaguar Preserve. This was entirely made for homework purposes, but will be posted here as a tribute and homage to Dr. Rabinowitz's work in Belize for the jaguars.





	1. Chapter 1

The American bison used to roam all across North America, with its historic numbers ranging from 30 to 60 million bison, specifically the plains bison. After European settlement, though, their numbers have dwindled down to about 500. Although they still live in a thinner area in their original grounds, it’s more sparsely populated.

Bison help their ecosystem by creating highways in the snow that help smaller animals reach food sources in the winter, creating wallows that collect rainwater that are accessible to many species (they also promote the growth of rare plants!) and they continue being a bountiful source of food and shelter for the Native communities in the Northern Great Plains.

I had joined the American Prairie’s bison restoration project in hopes of helping restore the bison’s population numbers, as well as helping restore their ecosystem. I was one of several dozens who had signed up for the program, and I was finally chosen for my great love of animals, willingness to live out in the Plains, and meticulous note-taking.

When I heard that I had been accepted, I immediately set out to pack my bags for whatever would be necessary to live in the prairies of Montana. I took a plane to Billings, then a car to the Reserve, which culminated in a total of about 11 hours. The Reserve lets you camp on their lands, but I was here for work. I headed on down to the offices and claimed my participation in their campaign. After several hours getting the paperwork in order, I was led to the housing nearby and was finally allowed to stay in my room for the rest of the evening.


	2. Chapter 2

I had set an alarm for early in the morning, but it was set on Eastern Time, when I should have set it for Mountain Time. The difference between the two is that ET is two hours ahead of MT. Nevertheless, I woke up early thanks to a great bathroom need, and decided to start my day. I was told to check in back at the main office to get my official gear, so I grabbed my backpack and went out to do so.

After the office stop, a matronly woman named Celeste led me around the fields, showing me where the volunteers worked, the shacks where their materials were stored, the grain houses, the news board, the stables, camping grounds, and more. I was able to meet with many leaders of the bison management program, and share ideas and goals of what we all want to accomplish: restoring the bison in their natural habitat. Celeste took me out to a small hill and told me to eat. This is our lunch time. She had a granola bar while I had a sandwich. When we were finished, we headed back to the main area of action, and parted ways for the night. But before I headed back to my room, I looked over the small hill we were on, and watched as the sun set over the mountains and over the plains.

I felt good to be here. I’m excited to wake up tomorrow.

  


It was only chance that I had a spare sandwich with me yesterday when I was out with Celeste. I was quick to discover that when you go out into the fields, you bring everything and anything with you – spare set of clothes, food, journals, compass, pencils, calculator, small knife, binoculars, maps, and sunscreen. On the first day, when we were supposed to count the current bison in the prairies, Celeste’s daughter, Dulcinea, had to share some of her food with me, which I was eternally embarrassed about. Celeste laughed at me and continued driving the truck.

Celeste Jackson is a very kind woman. She’s 40 years old, lived in Montana all her life, had grandkids, and was devastated by the plight of the bison when she was a teenager. She’d been a part of many bison help programs, and had been a part of the American Prairie Reserve for about ten years now. Dulcinea had been right with her when Celeste joined, and was the one who made Celeste a grandmother.

With us was Cody Morrison, a ranch hand who volunteered to wrangle calves for health inspections; Alex Cygnus, a vegetation expert; and Armando Grisales, a swift fox researcher. It felt like a pleasure ride to me, but everyone including myself was working to write down any and all observations.

The bison were beautiful. I hadn’t expected them to be so large, I was used to observing the cows in my uncle’s farm. The bison were enormous brown mountains of fur, and I had a strong desire to pet them. I jotted down a reminder to buy a bison plushie.

This was a small herd, and we counted about 45 bison. Armando had gone out with Alex to check for fox tracks, and Dulcinea took photographs of the bison and general landscape. She told me she’ll put the pictures up on her blog that promotes wildlife conservation. She took a photo of me posing in front of the truck.


	3. Chapter 3

The general team consisted of several researchers, environmentalists, bison scientists, and maybe a farmhand. I was usually the bison person, but I would also help the environmentalists and the fence-workers from time to time.

The calves we’d check up on were always getting healthier, meaning that the entire reserve was working. Armando has said that although there isn’t a visual presence of the swift foxes in any part of the land, he knew for certain that they were out there, in the fringes of the plains. He and I got along great, slipping into broken English and Spanglish whenever we were out together in a truck or on horseback.

It’s such a great relief riding horses again. The wind in my hair, the smell of grass around me, being taller than I naturally could. I loved pushing the horses to their fastest pace, where they could finally run without restraints and I could feel my soul thundering. It felt liberating.

Whenever we would come by campers, they were always such polite people. They were usually older, so I attributed it to that. They’d ask us what we’re doing with notebooks and gadgets, and when we’d explain that we’re conservationists, they’d politely nod.

The great thing about having another Latino on the team is that when I scrapped my knees when I fell from the truck, Armando immediately whipped out a VapoRú and dabbed some on my knees, much to my absolute humor. Later, Dulcinea said that I laughed so hard and so loud that I scared all the bison away.


	4. Chapter 4

The Great Plains reaches from all the way down the middle of Texas up to the bottom of Alberta and Saskatchewan. In Canada, it’s known as the Prairies. It consists of prairies, steppes, and grasslands, and is known to be the weight-bearer of much farming and cattle ranching.

It’s home to the American bison, prairie dogs, foxes, hawks, pronghorn, spiders, bobcats, chickens, burrowing owls, gophers, and geese. It has grass, yucca, cacti, spring flowers, and the occasional tree or shrub, though the trees and shrubs are mostly found by riparian areas. The Plains, back in the Cretaceous period, was an inland sea which began receding in the beginning of the Paleocene period, leaving behind marine deposits and a majorly flat terrain. During the Cenozoic era, worldwide weather made the area favorable to grasslands, providing a new niche for mammals such as ungulates and glires. New findings have shown that mammoths, saber-toothed cats, and dozens of other megafaunas used to roam the land until the end of the Pleistocene.

The weather in the Great Plains greatly varies throughout the year, having very cold and harsh winters as well as very hot and humid summers. Wind speeds can become very high, especially in the winter. Grasslands are among the least protected biomes. There are dust storms about every year or so, and much of the land has been converted to agricultural use. The Plains covers many climate ranges. Its southeastern portion is the most tornado active area in the world, which makes it known as Tornado Alley.

The first people here, the Paleo-Indians, arrived here over 15,000 years ago through the Bering Strait bridge. It has been the home of the Plains Indians, whose tribes included the Blackfoot, Crow, Sioux, Cheyenne, Arapaho, Comanche, and others. The first European to arrive was Francisco Vázquez de Coronado, a Spanish conquistador. Over the next hundred years, the fur trade brought thousands of European immigrants into the Plains. Once the Louisiana Purchase was made, and once Lewis and Clark went on their Expedition, more information about the Plains became available and various pioneers entered the areas. Fur trading posts were often the basis for later settlements. But with the encroaching populations of Europeans came new diseases against which the Natives were not resistant, which resulted in about a half and two-thirds of the Native population to die off of smallpox.

After 1870, the new railroads let hunters kill off almost all of the bison for their hides. Because of the homesteader laws, many Europeans and Americans rushed to stake claim to some land for themselves. But the towns near railroads succeeded while those that weren’t didn’t, becoming ghost towns. Much of the Great Plains became open range, and anyone was technically free to run cattle. Between 1866 and 1895, cowboys herded 10 million cattle North to rail heads such as Dodge City, KS and Ogallala, NE.

Celeste asked me why I joined the team. We were supposed to haul new wood to the run-down fences to replace them. I think for a moment, and answer, “Because I like cows. Bison are indigenous cows.” She laughed at the answer, shook her head, but didn’t say anything else on the matter.


	5. Chapter 5

  * • Was right about bison being indigenous cows
  * o Big and FLUFFY <3
  * o When Cody grabbed a calf, I inspected it for any health problems, and when she checked out fine, I ruffled her pelt and ascended
  * • Fencing needs work done on the northeastern corner, go there tomorrow w/Celeste at 6:30 am
  * • Remember to ~integrate~
  * • Bison are a bit gone South, not a lot to do in regards of studying them
  * • ~~Help Armando w/foxes~~ fill Armando w/Inspiration
  * o Maybe w/ur Epic Playlist for Epic Jobs
  * o But actually do go out w/him, there’s too much grass for one (1) person alone
  * • Pay Cody for helping w/the door jamb
  * • 2day there’s a group of new volunteers, help show them around
  * • New integrante by name of Winona Goodfox, Native girl
  * o Yankton Dakota Sioux from the Standing Rock tribe
  * o She want to write a paper about intermingled bison and Native history
  * o We’ll help her with that
  *  She’s writing it in her language, then she’ll translate it into English
  * • Isn’t that wild?!
  * • Dulcinea brought her son over! He’s so smol
  * o He also likes bison but prefers the bobcats, which is valid




	6. Chapter 6

The American bison has a long, shaggy brown coat. It’s dark brown in the winter, and sports a lighter and light brown coat in the summer. The male is slightly larger than the female, and is known to be heavier in several cases. Plains bison are usually smaller than their sibling the wood bison.

Their head and body lengths range from 6.6-11 ft. long, the tail adding 12-36 in. Shoulder height can range from 60-73 in. Weights can range from 701-2,205 lbs., but their typical weight is between 1,014 to 2,178 lbs. in males and 794 to 1,199 lbs. in females. When raised for meat, the bison can grow unnaturally heavy.

A male would be called a bull while a female would be called a cow, the same as domesticated cattle. Their heads and forequarters are massive, and both sexes have short, curved horns that can grow up to 2 ft. long, which they use in fights for status in their herds and for defense.

Bison are herbivores. Their daily schedule is two hours of grazing, resting, and cud chewing, then moving to a new location to graze again.

The American and European bison may look similar, but they’re still cousins. American bison tend to be shorter and fatter because of the difference in habitat and skeletal anatomy. The European is “balder” than the American, having a less shaggy coat. American bison are more easily tamed and breed more readily with domestic cattle. Aside from the European bison, the American bison’s other cousins include Taurine cattle, zebus, yaks, bantengs, gaurs, and gayals – all part of the bovine family. A distant cousin of the family would be the water buffalo and African buffalo, the two having left the family about 5 to 10 million years ago.

According to 20th century Europeans, the American bison have a “wild and ungovernable temper.” The bison can also jump 6 ft. vertically and can run 35-40 mph when agitated.


	7. Chapter 7

I’m not used to the cold. I come from warm countries, and even though two of them have mountains, they were never cold. Living right by the equator is a blessing that I thank God for every day of my life, and even more so since I’ve been living here. Colombia’s mountains were pure farmland, and Costa Rica’s were always so far away, and Florida never knew what the cold felt like. This is torture on my skin, to my bones. I rattle every day, as if I were a snake, though I have no dangers to fear here.

It’s no wonder the bison have thick coats all year-long. I can’t stand it. I’m a fuzzy person by nature, but it’s not enough. The Americans here laugh at me whenever I check in to the office covered up to my neck in two jackets, a sweater, a scarf, and gloves. I haven’t gone a day without jeans on.

One day the sky decided to rain. I was outside, helping Alex categorize several plant specimens they had collected, and when the first drops fell, we were quick to gather up their baggies and jars of plants and leaves and flowers, and quickly went to the nearest shelter, which was a small toolshed. We were wet and cold, and I lamented this fact. Alex is from Washington state, and they laughed at me, saying that I should have already learned to get used to the cold after five months. I told them that Florida’s winter consists of two weeks of a wimpy breeze that makes everyone pull out their best coats and jackets and boots, and after the two weeks are over, the clothes are stored again for another year. They couldn’t believe it, and insisted I must be making that up. I lifted my eyebrow at them, and they finally shook their head, whispering, “God, you Floridians are weird.” To pass the time, we exchanged stories of cryptids and paranormal experiences, with Alex’s stories being far superior to mine. Washington state is in the North, it’s cold, and it has many forests. Lots of things can happen in the forests.

The rain stopped, and we trekked back to the dorms. We sat on their bed and continued organizing the plants. After gossiping about who’s with who, who has money, who managed to fulfill their goal, and after heatedly discussing whether or not Superman could emotionally beat Captain America or not, I bid them good night and went to bed. Next morning, I awoke with a cold and anger.

Celeste came by to tell me about what they were going to do today and to give me a warm meal. As I hungrily devoured the soup, she amusedly said, “I bet you’ve never had an American soup before, huh? That good?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m just very sick. This is very warm, and my mom has always said that soup is the best thing for a cold.” Celeste didn’t take it the wrong way, and chuckled at me. She left, and I was in bed for the rest of the afternoon. Dulcinea came by with a bottle of Tylenol and Excedrin, and I drank one of each.

The next day, I was still very much out of it. Armando came by and gave me a case of VapoRú. I thanked him for it, and he left. Winona stopped by with a plate of food for me, and we stayed talking about each other’s cultures, learning very much. Next morning, I felt much better, and went into town to buy Armando Cofal. It took all day, but I finally managed to find a Mexican store that sold it.


	8. Chapter 8

The people of Billings, Montana consisted of mostly whites, some blacks, a good number of Natives, several Asians, and a few Islanders. Latinos were spread out amongst these numbers. The minorities were very diverse, and this was very comforting to me, especially the fact that there were so many Latinos here.

The population was slightly more female than male, and the average age was the late thirties. I felt weird going from being mostly surrounded by young people in the fields to being mostly surrounded by big people in the city. I still feel small. It was a metropolitan area, which was also jarring when you visit from the fields.

There were several Latino clubs that Armando would take me out to. It was such a relief on my heart and soul to be in a Latino atmosphere. I’ve been so disconnected from others since I came here all the way from Miami, I felt so alone and desolate. Armando has been a very important presence in my life right now, my connection to our worlds. Any time it was just the two of us, we’d secret things in Spanish, getting angry at ourselves for forgetting a word, laughing over the obvious translation. I’ve always been shocked that Dulcinea is named like that, and when I finally asked Celeste about it, she said that she had read Don Quixote and liked the name so much.

“What would you have named her if she wasn’t going to be Dulcinea?”

“Rachel,” Celeste answers, not looking up from the sweater she’s knitting. Winter is close approaching, and I had suffered in the summer. Her second choice for Dulcinea was Rachel, and it amazed me how this woman had been so touched by a Spaniard’s work that she decided to name her daughter after the unseen character. Later that day I remembered a joke regarding Don Quixote, and when I shared it with Armando, he laughed heartily.

There have been several days where I’ve forgotten the entirety of the English language and have to ask Armando to translate things for me. I think it’s funny, and I think he does, too. The forgetting things in English extends to songs, too – on the Fourth of July, I literally forgot the anthem and instead sang the Colombian one, with Armando singing along. After that blunder, I told him that he’s named like Amparo Grisales and he confided that that’s his greatest source of being pissed off.

The bison don’t seem to mind when I tell them stories in Spanish. My notes have started to have an accent. I’ll have to remember to translate them for the official documentation, but later.


	9. Chapter 9

There was one cow in particular that I liked. I named her Rosita, because what other name could I possibly name her.

She was a mom, with a little calf that followed her everywhere she went. Rosita was a fat lady, and she had many lady friends that I’m sure would update her on all the herd gossip, seeing as how Rosita and Jr. would usually hang in the back. Junior was an energetic little thing, who would usually lead Rosita to different grasses, or to a hill. Junior liked playing with the prairie dogs, scampering from hole to hole whenever the dogs would pop up.

One time a bobcat tried to chase after Junior, but Rosita charged towards it, scaring it away with her massive self. There was a small murder of crows that lived in the area, and they liked playing with the calves. One day a crow pulled on Junior’s tail, and she chased him around before another crow pulled her tail, which was when she rushed back to Rosita’s side.

I’ve taken various notes on Rosita and Junior, how they behave, what precautions Rosita makes, Junior’s general attitude. I’ve never seen people talking about how bison take care of their young, so this was exciting for me. It made me feel really good when I realized that Rosita and Junior were like me and my mom. Madre solo hay una. Jeje.


	10. Chapter 10

It seemed that everyone had their special bison, seeing as how when I mentioned Rosita and Junior to Cody, he said that his champion of a bull was the leader of the herd. He named him Julius, because of Julius Caesar.

Celeste was fond of an old cow she’d been calling Mary Jane for several years now. I could see the similarities between them: old ladies who still had a lot of spirit. Mary Jane seemed to be the Wise Elder of the herd, which was not dissimilar with Celeste.

Dulcinea liked a young cow she’d named Victory. Dulcinea said she was a sprightful cow who seemed to be next in line of succession. Victory liked getting into a lot of fights, which was odd and unusual for a cow, but was quickly explained when it was found out Victory had a belle she named Sweet Pea. They were like high school darlings, which amused and touched us.

I wrote down our respective cows and came up with this:

  * • Me: Rosita and Jr, mother and daughter, arguably the coolest ones here
  * • Celeste: Mary Jane, wise old one, the Gandalf type
  * • Dulcinea: Victory and Sweet Pea, Sapphic young ladies, power couple
  * • Cody: Julius, youngish bull, leader of the herd, Big Boy
  * • Alex: Dominique Ashton, small cow, independent lady who don’t need no bull
  * • Armando: Esteban Julio Ricardo Montoya de la Rosa Ramírez, young calf, a thief
  * • Winona: Dakota, mature cow, gentle and softé



Eventually word got out that we had our favorite bison, and soon there was a poster on the corkboard with everyone’s preferred bison with a quick description. It was so popular and novel that soon we had a separate post that chose a good bison and a bad bison of the month.


	11. Chapter 11

One day, Celeste had asked the office for a two-month’s leave. It seemed that everyone knew why she did this, but since I was new, I didn’t know anything. I ask Cody about it, and he explained that back when Celeste married her husband, Ivan, their honeymoon had been extended from two weeks to about two months throughout a series of seemingly unfortunate events. Ever since then, they’ve tried to spend their anniversary months lost in another part of the world. The word was that this year, they were planning on visiting Mozambique.

“Wow,” was all I could think of to say, because what else can you say to that?

Cody wisely nodded, adding, “I think I’m also going to tell them I’m leaving. It’s harvesting season, and they need me at the farm. Bye, Duke.”

Afterwards, when we were in the mess hall, I asked the others if they had any plans for the upcoming season., since it seems that lots of people do. It was near the holidays, anyhow. Alex claimed they didn’t do anything, but we all know they were lying – they’d already posted a paper on the bulletin board asking for a replacement for a week. They caved in and admitted that they were going to visit family for Thanksgiving.

Armando said he’d be going back to Colombia for the novena, but that wasn’t until December, so that was still a way to go. Winona was also a new member, so she didn’t expect to be back for Thanksgiving. But she did say that her tribe hosts a free-ranging bison herd, so she suggested that those still here could head on over there. We all thought it was a fantastic idea, so we headed on over on to the office to tell them of our plan, and they immediately agreed and signed off on it.

Soon, Winona, Armando, and I were piled into a beat-up truck and headed on a road-trip East to South Dakota. It was actually my first-ever road-trip, and Armando and Winona made it very enjoyable – at least, in their opinions, it was enjoyable. It was supposed to be nine hours and a half, but with all the frequent stops and pranks they pulled on me, it took all day. We had decided to take turns driving, but they wouldn’t stop pestering me while I was driving, so I defiantly stayed in the shotgun seat while they’d be driving. The entire experience felt like the scene in _Shrek_ where Shrek and Donkey were crossing the bridge to the Dragon’s lair, with me as Donkey and Armando and Winona taking the role of Shrek.

It was horrifying, to say the least.

When we finally arrived in the morning, Winona shook my shoulder to wake me up. The landscape was full of tall grass, spotted with buildings and teepees. The station was playing some old rock song, and the windows had been rolled down to let the wind cool us down. We were in Wagner.

She drove over to a neighborhood, and slowed down until she parked in front of a house, where she told us to get out and into the house. It was her family’s home, who weren’t expecting her visit. But they still invited us in with open arms. Later that night, we had a feast in celebration of Winona’s return.


	12. Chapter 12

Winona’s family consisted of: her parents Susan and Phillip, her brothers Denali, Clayton, Anakin, Sayen, and Estelle, and Grandma Rue. This was only in her house, she had numerous aunts and uncles and cousins. It felt like a Latino gathering when the feast was held in Winona’s honor. Armando and I felt very much at home here.

The feast was held at one of the teepees, which was used only for feasts, as denoted by the red circle at the bottom of its cloth. The entire neighborhood came and brought much food. Winona’s entire family, neighbors, and friends helped set up the party, and when it came in full force, the place was packed with people and filled with music from a local band.

Armando and I were immediately questioned by her family. Who are you? I’m Duke, this is Armando. How do you know our Winona? We’re work friends, we all work together at the American Prairie. Oh, you’re her friends! Yes.

Winona’s Grandma Rue took a liking to me, holding me by the hand and telling me stories of her granddaughter when she was young. Armando was off on the dance floor, dancing with Cousin Feather. Grandma Rue was talking about how shy and odd her little Winona was, pointing her out in the next table, and how she’s grown up to be a wonderful young woman. Did you know she’s writing a book about us? Yes, I say, I’m helping her write it.

“Oh, really?” she says. “That’s great to know. Maybe now she’ll settle down.”

“I’m sorry, but what do you mean ‘settle down’?”

“She’s been so unlucky in love, you know,” she explains. Oh my God. “All these years, she’s only ever had one girlfriend, and that nasty girl left her to go to New York. Something about chasing her dream or whatever. Winona was heartbroken, and she wouldn’t leave the house for five months. She’s finally back on her feet, but she told us to not expect her bringing anyone home soon. But look at this – she brings two people back home! Now, I know that that Armando boy is a fine man, but he’s not what we would want for Winona, and she wouldn’t want him either. It’s fantastic that you’re here. And I know I might be pushing for you two to be together, but that’s not entirely true. I want you to be a good friend to her, you hear?”

I’m internally screaming. I say of course I will, and Grandma Rue continues telling me stories of the family and sharing Sioux traditions and customs. By two o’clock in the morning, some family members had already left with table flowers in hand, something that seems universal. I haven’t had a chance to speak to Winona since we got here, and finally I ask her when will be start the bison studies. She’s tipsy and only tells me that she loves bison, and loves all her friends, and loves my hairdo. I help her back home, and she nearly tripped up the stairs a good five times. When I was taking off her shoes, she proceeded to kick me in the face.

Next morning I absolutely slammed her door open loud enough to wake up everyone in a 3 mile radius.


	13. Chapter 13

Winona was not fit to work today, so her siblings decided to give us a tour of their town. They said that Wagner isn’t that much, but Armando and I tried to lift their spirits. It was a nice town, with nice people. It was plain, but had lively personalities to make up for it.

There were a lot of Natives here, and I was surprised for a second before remembering that we’re staying on their reservation. Sayen said that she was also surprised to see us. Not a lot of contact between Latinos and Natives, it seems, from both sides, although there was a substantive Latino population.

“It’s nice to see you, because you look a bit like us, and we look a bit like you,” she said.

“We’re from the mountains of Colombia, there’s a lot of Natives there too,” Armando says. I can’t help but notice the slight accent in our words. We end up walking throughout town talking about our respective nations. The word “Sioux” comes from the word “Nadowessi” which means “little snakes.” Dakota as a name means “friend,” but as the people, means “knife makers.” The band Indigenous is from here, and they’re very proud of them. Teepees were made for their nomadic lifestyle: they were easy to erect and easy to dismantle; a Siouan village could be ready to move within an hour. With the reintroduction of horses to the Americas thanks to the Spanish, some tribes abandoned a relatively sedentary life style to become horse nomads in less than a generation. This would have included the Sioux, and they still have horses on their reservation to this day.

They’re very proud of their heritage.

I tell them about how the Spanish came to South America and raped, pillaged, and plundered the towns. Here, the Goodfoxes rejoice because European invaders also did that to their peoples. It was a nice moment, bonding over how our original peoples were abused. I continued, saying how the mestizos came to be, along with all the farming, and the horses, and the Spanish language. We taught each other words and phrases in our respective languages, and it touched me how our accents tinted each syllable.

It started to get dark, so we headed back to the rez. Anakin asks me what work do we do with his sister. She’s writing a book, how many people are working on it?

“I’m studying bison, and he’s studying foxes,” I answer.

“Bison? You should’ve come here instead of going all the way to Montana,” Anakin says. “Our bison are free-range. Lots of scientists come here.”

“Well I didn’t know. And I wouldn’t have been here if I hadn’t gone to Montana instead.”

“Aren’t you from the mountains? Are you cold?” Clayton interjects, concerned for my wellbeing. I’ve been shivering a lot these days, and while Armando and Winona have been used to it, the Goodfoxes are not.

“I’m from Florida, there’s no cold there.”

They promise to take me out to see the bison tomorrow.


	14. Chapter 14

I woke up early to go out with the Goodfoxes to see the bison. It was four in the morning. I was excited. I hadn’t seen bison in so long. They had migrated a little bit Southwards, but just enough to be out of our truck’s range. Maybe there’d be some here. After all, the Plains is vast and great.

Denali drove me out to the farms, which were towards the edges of town. He kept driving until he reached the end of them, then followed the edge southwards. I stopped him and pointed out excitedly. He smiled and stopped the car, and we got out of it to see the beautiful bison still snoring.

I couldn’t help myself. I whipped out my phone and took pictures of the bison. They were so peaceful and loud, I hadn’t ever seen them sleeping. I also took a few selfies with Denali with the bison, and pictures of Denali with the bison. I asked him to hold on to my shirt as I hugged one giant bull, and he said I was crazy. I justified this by saying that Jeff Goldblum did the exact same thing in _Jurassic Park_ with the triceratops, and Denali said okay.

The bull was tougher than I was hoping, but his fur was softer than what I expected. All-around, an experience worth bragging about.

I drew sketches of the sleeping bison, quietly walking around them to take different photos. Denali followed close by, not wanting me to be alone in a waking herd of bison. I suddenly remembered that we had tagged several calves and a few young bison some months ago, so I went around the herd again, but this time to see if any of them had any earrings. Turns out that five cows, two bulls, and four calves had been tagged. I quickly recorded their tracking numbers with the area they had been found in. They were doing very well.

On the ride back, Denali said that he’d never think of hugging a buffalo. They were so tied in to his culture and traditions that wanting to touch them alive was very much out of left field.

“Oh, damn, I’m sorry,” I said. I felt like a butt.

“No no, don’t worry. You’re so excited about the buffalo that you make it okay. The buffalo are very sacred to us, and it’s a good thing that you’re working to keep them alive. That way, maybe future Sioux will be able to think nothing of it when they hug them.” Denali smiled at me, and I knew I had gained his favor.


	15. Chapter 15

Winona’s family was very kind to us. They housed us and fed us, and at one point, even clothed us.

Armando has lost one of his shirts, and while he was looking for it, he lost another. Soon, the majority of his clothes got lost. Winona’s young cousins were laughing and giggling and acting very innocent. Winona chastised them in Siouan but they insisted they didn’t know where his clothes went. Phillip gave Armando several old clothes he had, and Armando was very embarrassed at this.

I told them about how Denali took me out to see the bison, and how the herd had several bison that we had tagged several months prior. Armando lit up at that, and while rummaging through his field bag, he said that the tags had RFID tech – Radio Frequency Identification Device – and that we could see them on our radio scanner. Once he got the scanner out, he turned it on and sure enough, eleven dots appeared on the screen, all huddled together.

We showed Winona’s siblings how it works, and Clayton got hooked. I could see in his eyes the lighting of a passion, and made a mental note to tell him about the American Prairie program.

Armando had also brought additional tags, and turned them one and handed them out to those in the house. We started playing an advanced version of hide-and-seek, with the seeker trying to find the hiders’ position with the scanner.

I asked Susan if there had been any small foxes in the area, contemporarily or historically, and she said that they used to roam these parts. Now it’s very rare to see them, but when they do, they leave them alone as the Sioux have continued their traditions of respecting nature spirits. I tell Armando the great news, and he crouches down to the floor, crying a little.

When Winona saw him crying, she patted his shoulder and promised to take him out to the swift fox’s range. Armando hugged her very tightly, and got tears and boogers on her shirt, which she made him wash. He was more than happy to.


	16. Chapter 16

Armando seemed like a little kid going to the carnival for the first time. Winona was driving, and Armando wouldn’t stop chattering about foxes the entire way.

We got to the outskirts of town. Susan said that the foxes don’t like living in crowded areas. She’s right, they don’t, they live in prairie grasslands and deserts. Their range is generally the Great Plains, excluding South Dakota, but there have always been outliers in any species’ populations.

The landscape extended towards the edge of the sky. The land was covered in rolling grass. It was windy today. Off in the distance we saw a couple having a picnic under a solitary tree. There were bison grazing.

Armando set off to work, figure hunched over to look at the ground. Winona and I followed behind him, talking about movies. Every now and then, Armando would stop and lay down on the ground, seemingly follow a trail by army crawling, get up, write something in his notebook, and continue walking like a question mark. I managed to get video of this, and later at night, Susan was laughing at his antics over dinner.

Winona has never seen _Back to the Future_ , and admitted that at this point, she’s scared of doing so. I promise her that once we get back to American Prairie, we’ll watch the movies together.

“I’m still going to shame you, though, so prepare for that,” I say, half-jokingly.

She nods. “You are the movie master, after all.”

After a while, she and I sit at the half-point of a small hill, seeing Armando scurry over the area. He finally crawled over to the base of the hill, found a hole, stuck his face in it, and immediately jumped up and caught up to us. He was breathing heavily but managed to say, “I finally found a swift fox den!”

“Congratulations!” we said. He nodded then added, “We should move away, though. When I put my face in the hole, apparently mommy fox was going to hunt, and she screamed in my face.”

We look over to the opening of the den, and see mommy fox look around then zero in on us. She started sprinting towards us. We started running away. Mommy fox seemed to be on a mission, and managed to bite at my ankles as I was scrambling to get in the truck. She yelled at us for a few minutes, circled us, didn’t take her eyes off, then decided that we’ve been scared enough to leave and head back to the grasslands.

“That went well,” Armando said. Winona slapped him on the head, and later helped clean my wounds.


	17. Chapter 17

We were lucky enough to be in Wagner for Estelle’s birthday. It was a special occasion: because she started getting her menses, she and several other girls would go through the Isnati coming of age ceremony.

The Isnati ceremony was revived in the 1990’s by the Brave Heart Women’s Society. The girls have to go to the bank of the Missouri River and isolate themselves from the rest of the camp. Because of this, a special moon camp is set up for the girls to stay in for four days.

The girls must build their own teepee with 13 poles for the thirteen moons of the year (hence the name, “moon camp”) and live there for the four days. Their grandmas and aunties will yell instructions at them from the sidelines. The girls must build the teepee in order to have enough strength to house yourself.

During the four days, the girls can’t touch food or drink. They’ll be fed by their mothers and other women in the camp. On the second day, they must gather traditional herbs and medicines. They also pick up other plants and flowers for the bouquets they’ll carry at the womanhood ceremony.

A group of young boys keep the fires in camp burning all day and night. Men aren’t allowed in the girl’s camp, but the young boys are allowed. One boy’s job would be singing to the girls to wake them up.

One of the older Isnati girls will come to teach them how to make ceremonial food. Other older Isnati girls will return to feed them and teach them ceremonial songs and beading. Throughout the days, the elders talk to the girls about modesty, courtship, pregnancy, and suicide, which is a serious problem on the reservations. This would usually be done in the camp circles.

On the last day, each girl spends time with her mother or an auntie in the teepee. The older woman will bathe the girl in sage water and talk to her about her birth, her young days, and her future. In the late afternoon, dressed in their ribbon dresses, moccasins, and beaded regalia, the girls are introduced to the community as women and members of the Brave Heart Women’s Society. They will also be given a new name by their grandmother, a name that reflects their position in life.

Estelle is 14, and has just started her menses, so she will be one of the December babies to take part of the Isnati ceremony. Susan, Winona, and Sayen invited me to live near the moon camp, and we stayed there for the four days and nights the girls had to go through. At the final ceremony, Susan cried as her youngest daughter became a woman.

Later at night, over a midnight snack, I tell Winona about the quinceañera parties in Latinoamérica, and how they’re supposed to represent the transition of young girls to women. There are no rituals involved, only a giant gown, a photography session, friends as dancers at the party, and the entire family reunited. One ritual that I could remember was a Mexican tradition of the father changing his daughter’s flat shoes to high heels, and the father dancing with his daughter. Winona hummed. She didn’t know what to make of it. I thought to myself that there must’ve been something greater to it than our contemporary versions, but it must’ve gotten lost throughout the years.

“Did you have a quinceañera?” she asks.

“No, I didn’t want a party. I went on a cruise with my parents and took one good photo,” I answer.


	18. Chapter 18

After New Year’s, Winona and I returned to American Prairie. Her family sent us off with lots or presents and food. On the way over, I broke in my new sweater, made from bison fur. I immediately felt warmer.

The road back home was shorter and quieter, which wasn’t bad. The radio sang America, and the breeze made our cheeks pink. Winona hadn’t tied up her hair, and it blew behind her like in those summer music videos.

When we entered Billings, we waved at some of the residents we had come to know. When we finally arrived at the American Prairie main camp, a feeling of “I’m home” rushed over me. I can’t believe I’d already started thinking of this as my home, despite all the cold and dead days I’ve had.

Checking back in the office was a quick affair, and Winona and I spent the rest of the day huddled together in my room, marathoning _Back to the Future_ as promised.

  
The bulletin board said that December’s good bison was a cow named Clarita and the bad bison was a bull named Teddy. Apparently, Clarita had been kind to the other calves in the herd while Teddy had fought other bulls for no apparent reason.

A person came up to me and asked me where the volunteer registration was. I showed him the way, all the while telling him about the different aspects of American Prairie and what we were doing to help the environment and its species.

He told me he wanted to do something for the prairie itself, because back in his town, the land was very sick and didn’t want to grow anymore. I told him his goals went with the habitat restoration program we have, and sent him merrily on his way. I later heard that this specific volunteer, Aaron Grayson, had put in a large amount of money into the program and was one of the headers of the prairie restoration program.


	19. Chapter 19

It seems that Montana has the opposite weather of Florida. While in Florida, you might get two weeks of a breeze that’s considered winter, here you might get two weeks of no snow that’s considered summer.

The bison create snow highways in the high winter, which is what happens when their giant bodies cross the land, leaving behind a generous space that allows smaller creatures to pass through in order to get to food sources or to their dens, or what have you.

Since it’s still winter, I wanted to see one of the highways for myself. I brought my camera, field bag, and my trusty Winona for it, and off we went. I drove the truck to the last sightings of bison in the general area, and once we saw small animals run from one snow bank to the other, I knew we’d come across a highway.

I got out, piss freezing in my bladder. Winona was not faring well either, even with the three sweaters and blanket she had on. I was only in my bison sweater, jeans, and boots, with tights and fuzzy socks underneath. I was definitely underdressed for the weather, but that’s what happens when you let a Native Floridian go up North.

I walked along the highway, taking pictures of its embankments. I gave Winona my notebook and rattled off measurements of the height of the walls, bison tracks, deer tracks, noting the direction most of the animals were taking. I took a picture of her in her misery, with her hands out in the cold to write down my notes. I almost felt sorry for her, but I had to save my pity for myself. Can’t ration it out.

Winona complained that I was way too excited over a highway. I kept on telling her that I was excited because I didn’t know about this in such depth. She rolled her eyes, and I tried to win her over by telling her that this could help with her book. It seemed that it worked.

The truck groaned as much as she did while on the way back to the American Prairie. It had started snowing when I decided we should go back, and it was by the hand of God that when we finally parked, the snow really started to kick in. I bid Winona thanks and good night, and stayed up organizing my notes and revealing my photos.


	20. Chapter 20

When “spring” was arriving, the snow was melting. This entire year had been the first I’ve ever seen snow, and it’ll also bring me the first time I ever see the snow thaw. It was ugly. Lots of snow had dirt buildup, and it was slushy and gray and gross. That was in the city. The snow out in the grasslands was calmer, not so packed with dirt, but still had a characteristic of being wild.

One morning I showered with cold water, and the chills throughout my body wouldn’t stop for the rest of the day. I went to Billings to pick up thicker blankets, but that also didn’t stop me from shaking while I slept.

The bison have a thick coat for winter and a thinner one for summer. You can adequately determine where the bison are by all the shedding they do. I remember reading about the 'ahu'ula, feather capes of Hawaii in class, and how they were made by capturing the 'i'iwi and 'o'o birds, plucking several feathers, and releasing them back into the wild. I wondered if the bison sweater I was wearing was made this way. I know that it probably wasn’t, but I could still have hope.

I asked Winona to accompany me while I went out following the hair. She thought that sounded funny, so she agreed. We went out in the truck, and I sat in the back, leaning over to see the hair trails. I more-or-less led the way, knowing that Winona could see the many clumps herself.

When we were able to see a herd of bison grazing, I ask her to stop, and I get out. I pull on my field bag, and start army crawling to the bison. They really are like cattle, very docile and calm. I take pictures of them without them batting an eye. I get up because it seems pointless to continue crawling next to them when they’re just eating.

I weave my way around them, avoiding the bigger bulls, sticking to the cows. It seems that girls anywhere in the animal kingdom are kind. I even scratched some behind their ears, which was very easy because they were leaning down to eat. They seemed to enjoy this, the calves especially.

Winona comes up to me, very surprised at this. I nod for her to touch the cow, and she does so very carefully. The cow doesn’t mind, not even when Winona started scratching her.

“Wow,” she said.

On the way back, I was very satisfied with my notes and fur samples. Winona stayed pensively quiet, which I figured was because of her contact with the cow.

The radio sang the Eagles.


	21. Chapter 21

Celeste came back from Mozambique, and told us all about it. Her skin was nicely flushed, but to my Latino eyes she looked like she was ready to be tanned. She reminded me of Tony Machado.

Celeste told us they'd taken the tourist trip of Maputo and Vilankulo, which lasted for four days. After that, seeing as how their hotel reservations were up, they began backpacking across the country, coming across many villages and cities and parks. She described it with a lot of sentiment and fun.

She asked me if I've ever gone to Africa, and I said no, this was the first time I'd gone somewhere else in the continental U.S., but I had been to South America and the Caribbean.

Celeste said that I should go somewhere else. She also set up a vacation for me in Montana, to “see America.” I jokingly tell her that I've always wanted to see them live, but it flew over her head.

I felt uncomfortable going on a vacation so soon after being back from the field trip to South Dakota, but Celeste insisted, so I desisted.

Since it was March, she suggested I visit the Makoshika State Park, which is only three hours from Billings. Celeste made a true vacation out of it, scheduling it for the next week, bringing along Dulcinea and her family, Ivan, and Winona to see the badlands. The party was split into two cars, Dulcinea’s van and our truck. I rode shotgun with Winona at the wheel of our truck, and Ivan was surprisingly with us. The Collins’s and Celeste rode in Dulcinea’s van, and the truck followed them towards the park. Ivan told us that he wanted to ride with us because we seemed like “nice, stand-up gals.” I snort a little at that.

“I also don’t like Walter a lot. He seems like the type of guy who wouldn’t know the dangers of finding a baby rat in the house,” Ivan added grumpily. Winona and I burst out laughing at this sudden turn of mood, and we joked along the way to the park.

It was very beautiful. I’ve never been to badlands before, and my only knowledge of badlands came from an episode of _Total Drama Island_. It was dry and looked desolate, but it was full of life and was very majestic. It was strewn about with rock formations, and a tour guide showed us dinosaur pits, explaining the different dinosaurs that lived in the area, several hundred million years ago. It made me feel small, but in a feel-good way. I’m standing right where a triceratops once walked.

On the ride back, Winona tells me that the name of the park comes from the Lakota name, _Maco sica_ , which means “bad lands” or “land of bad spirits.


	22. Chapter 22

It snowed in spring. I hate this country.

Apparently, it’s such a common occurrence here that no one thinks twice about it. It’s just a part of the Montanans’ lives. It rains and snows in spring, and it snows in the summer, too. When is it not cold?

I was friends with the old man who ran the general drugstore as well as the old lady who sold my warm blankets. They’ve heard me complaining about the cold, and they laughed at me.

"When will you ever stop complaining about the weather? You’re such a foreigner!” they’d say, with good intentions, but they weren’t wrong. Mrs. Brigette Salvatore asked me if there was any cold in Florida, and I said yes, in the houses and buildings and cars. How can that be so?

“We have air conditioning.”

“A.C.? Why do you use it?” she asked.

“Because if we don’t, we’ll sweat to death. If you’re too long outside, you’ll surely die of a heat stroke,” I explained. She looked at me as if I were lying.

“It can’t be that hot,” she said after a few minutes. She rang me up and bagged my portable heater. “Highest we get around here is 88 degrees, and that’s in summer, and we don’t need the A.C.” Summer, here, means July and August. “Here” means above the 36th parallel. Billings is on the 45th. I would be mildly comfortable anywhere underneath the 36th, and extremely comfortable and in my habitat anywhere from the 31st parallel downwards. 

“We get that too, fact is, our temperature averages in the nineties and hundreds, sometimes even hundred-tens,” I say. Mrs. Salvatore blanches at that.

“I can’t imagine living with that heat all the time!”

“That’s why we use the A.C.!”

She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head, as if it’s my fault that Floridians survive solely thanks to the miracle that is the A.C.

Back in my house, I check the radio and see that the herds are coming back this way. I prepare my bag for tomorrow.


	23. Chapter 23

Part of the bison’s range includes North Dakota, so I headed on over there with Winona by my side. We had gotten rather close these past few months, and I dearly loved her. She had enough material to begin writing her book, but she stayed to hang out with me and join me on my bison expeditions. I asked her about her book as we entered the Peace Garden State.

She was quiet, thinking about how to answer me. We passed by a sign that said, “Welcome to North Dakota.”

“It’s … getting there,” she said, chuckling to herself. I quirked a smile; I know what it’s like writing a book. She continued, “It’s actually coming together really well. I’m accidentally pouring my heart out on the pages.” She shrugged, leaning against the window. “This entire experience has been really eye-opening, especially with the work that you’ve been doing. You’re trying to protect a very sacred animal, and that merits everyone’s gratitude.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say, but knowing that I was blushing.

I handed her the radio screen to see where the bison were. She told me East, the direction we were heading in. She got out a map we’d picked up in Billings, and says we’re heading to Medora. I nod, and continue driving.

Entering Medora, we find out that the Theodore Roosevelt National Park is here. I ask some of the citizens here if they see lots of bison pass by and they say of course! They’re everywhere! You’ll find plenty at the Park, just head down this road and make a right turn at this street to get there. White people here are strangely nice, but that must be the paranoid Latino mind talking.

We get passes into the Park, and immediately are surrounded by bison. They’re all here! I start slapping Winona’s arm, and hurry to hand her my journal and timer, and tell her to write down the information I’ll be rattling off. After we had been here for several hours, she shows me the data we had:

**Start Time:** 8:00 AM **End Time:** 8:03 AM

**Minutes:Seconds** | **Rest** | **Travel** | **Maintenance** | **Eating** | **Looking for Food** | **Play**  
---|---|---|---|---|---|---  
0:15 | 1 | - | - | 1 | - | -  
0:30 | 1 | - | - | 1 | - | -  
0:45 | 1 | - | 1 | 1 | - | -  
1:00 | - | 1 | - | 1 | - | -  
1:15 | - | 1 | - | - | 1 | -  
1:30 | 1 | 1 | - | - | - | 1  
1:45 | - | 1 | 1 | - | - | -  
2:00 | - |  | 1 |  | - | -  
2:15 | 1 | 1 | - | - | - | -  
2:30 | - | 1 | - | - |  | -  
2:45 | 1 | 1 | - | - | - | -  
3:00 | 1 | 1 | - | - | - | -  
  
**Notes:** They like rolling around in dust. Stick together. Look cuddly.


	24. Chapter 24

On the ride back, Winona was writing more of her book on her laptop. The sunset made the land look hazy and purple. The stars were starting to peak out. The radio sang America.

Back in the American Prairie, I reorganized my data and cross-checked all the information I had gathered. The bison move according to how much grass they can find to graze, which forms a bit of an elliptical in a year. It seems that specific herds have their distinct ellipticals, and many of them overlap. The bison are a very community-oriented species, one that likes to stick together. They raise their young together, sleep together, and eat together.

Speaking of their young, I haven’t yet seen calves being born. I have information of mothers and calves, and how they stick together and how they behave, but I had virtually no information on their gestation periods, birthing season, or mating season, other than the fact that the Montanans call calves “red dogs.” Celeste explained that it’s because calves are very, very red when they’re born, but I haven’t seen a newborn calf yet.

I made a survey of the people of Billings, asking them when do they see calves spring up the most. Some said March to April, but most said April to May. With the new knowledge that bison have the same gestation period as humans, this would mean that their mating season would be from August to September, totaling in nine months.

I now remember some mating behavior I had seen several months ago. From my journal August 22, 201X:

> A bull has approached a cow. He’s blocking her view, and keeps on doing so whenever she moves. Celeste says that he’s “tending” her. Tending means to look after a cow and making sure he’s between her and the rest of the herd. This is part of their mating ritual. If a cow doesn’t like a bull, she’ll just walk away. Bulls will fight other bulls if the intruder is too close to his cow. Oh no, they’re fighting right now :0. They’re hitting each other very hard, dang, yikes.  
>  Seems like fighting involves headbutting, shoving, or locking horns. Victory has done this throughout the time I have been here, and I’m p sure it has to do w/the fact that she has a girlfriend. lmao, butch girlfriend?? Hmm, might be bcus the other bison wouldn’t recognize their relationship? Figure out later

It’s almost going to be April, so maybe I will be seeing baby calves being born on the grasslands.


	25. Chapter 25

It was finally April and I spent nearly every day out in the fields, sometimes with Winona, sometimes with Cody when he could spare the time, and sometimes by myself. The only other ones out in the mist before morning were the sleeping forms of the buffalo. They’re active from early morning until late afternoon, both times being high activity times for them.

It reminded me of Star Wars. The calm, the isolation, the quiet. It was as if I’d been transported to a far-off planet, inhabited only by the bison and the grass and me. I’d doodled in my journal little cartoon bison, waiting for them to wake up and walk about.

The mothers were very warm creatures. When they got up to start the day, they roused their kids and prepared them for the day, licking their faces, making sure they were (that) dirty. Rosita Jr. was in the process of being weened, she still had about two months left. She already had her shoulder humps, and soon she’ll be a proper cow.

I followed them in the truck, taking pictures, jotting down notes of their behaviors. I saw a very fat bison walking with some of her friends, and realized that she was pregnant! She looked very big, reminding me of how big mares can get when they’re pregnant. I was hoping to see her give birth, but that didn’t happen at all today, not even when it got dark out and I had to write with a flashlight. Guess I’ll just have to keep on coming back.

  


The pregnant cow finally gave birth after two weeks. I had Cody and Winona with me, and we watched with fascination and terror as she gave birth. It looked exhausting and painful. I can’t imagine what she must be going through. But she did it, and her calf came out healthy and tripping on its legs. I leaned forward to see that the calf really was red, red, red. No wonder they were called red dogs.

I got out of the truck and walked briskly towards them. Once I was a few yards away, I started army crawling. I had my camera ready in my hand. I took a snapshot of the mother on the floor with her newborn on shaking legs. I stayed there, laying in the grass for a moment, to take in the beauty of the wild and of mothers.

I army crawled back and had to listen to Cody and Winona chastise me for intruding in the moment.


	26. Chapter 26

April and May brought a lot of new calves into the world, helping raise the population and helping secure their future. In Rosita’s herd, there were twelve new calves, and we managed to tag almost all of them. It was sad to see Rosita all alone, now that Jr. was a teenage cow and had to leave her side. It made me think of my mom and I, and I decided to call her that night. The call was long, and we talked into the night, reminiscing of our times together, and I promised to come back when this was all done and over. I had signed up for a year and a half, and the year was almost up.

Alex and Armando had been back since February, but our work schedules had been so disparate we’ve been missing each other all this time. Only now did we have a week off together, and we decided to make the best of it. The four of us went out to Billings and partied hard all week, only stopping to eat and go to the bathroom. I’m sure we slept at some point, but it was all a blur.

Back in the Prairie, Dulcinea brought us all her hangover cure and two Excedrin for each.

Next morning, Armando asked me how things were going with Winona. What do you mean “how things are going with Winona?” He chuckled and said that we’ve been so close and cuddly every time he sees us together, and I slap his arm to hide my blushing.

Yeah, how were things going with us? Sure, we’ve been hanging out a lot, helping each other with our respective projects, sharing music playlists and watching movie marathons a lot. But, now that I think about it, she made me laugh and made me happy, and just thinking about her made my heart beat faster. I was always excited to see her, and whenever she saw me her face would light up with a smile.

“You’re dumb,” Armando said.

“Yes,” I agreed.

Later that night, I went over to Winona’s room and sat down on her bed and listened to her while she told me of her day. This was incredibly domestic, and I wanted to say something.

“I really like you.” Fantastic, I want to die.

But Winona only smiled at me and held my hand.

“I really like you, too.”


	27. Chapter 27

Winona and I were now the new Victory and Sweet Pea, and Alex constantly made fun of us. I couldn’t blame them, I’d be making fun of myself too, and I was!

It was June, and it was technically summer in Montana. “Technically” being the key word here. Summer in Montana actually lasts from July till September. The weather is dryer, there’s light rains, and it isn’t even hot, it’s just room temperature, which is ingratiating to me. Temperature highs in eastern Montana are in the 90s while the lows are in the 80s. There can be heat waves that average in the low 100s, and when I was out in the fields helping replace a section of fencing, I was the only one unaffected by the heat. Even though there was still snow everywhere (it just won’t leave!!), my friends didn’t know how to deal with the sudden rise in temperature.

Finally, my Floridian roots were being praised instead of being beat down into the ground. Dulcinea had said that I looked funny with my hair up in a bun all the time, yet twenty minutes later she had her own hair up in a very messy bun that I fixed for her. Armando jokingly chastises me for walking around in a t-shirt and shorts, a fashion trend that soon becomes popular with everyone else. Celeste was shocked to learn that I still slept with three blankets even in the summer, and I explained to her that I never turn off my A.C., ever.

“But the temperature drops in the night,” Celeste tried to ration with me. That was also the reason why there’s still snow everywhere.

“Never,” I say, finalizing my point.

Winona and I start talking about our potential future together, and I have to admit, we’re adorable together. We made distant plans for a farm by a beach, and we’d have chickens, and cows, and we’d be eating healthier, and we’d go to the movies every week.

But for now, we just enjoyed each other’s company, hoping that this will become more. After all, I’ll be leaving next year, and she’ll be probably going back to Wagner. For the meantime, though, we’ve got to check up on the bison and see where they’re headed to now. The radio tracks showed a lot of herds were moving back here, so that meant that they’re circling back.

The next time we saw Victory and Sweet Pea, I pointed to them and told Winona, “That’s us.”


	28. Chapter 28

Summer seemed short, just like the rest of the years gone by.

It was nearly fall, it was September, the seasons were changing and so was the landscape.

The bison were here, in the reserve. The fences were all mostly fixed. Armando finally found swift foxes in the area. Alex finally told us what his plant study was about. It was about finding evidence of chemicals in the plants and the soil they were found in, to see what were the long-term effects of all the pesticides and to see if there could be a greener approach. Cody announced that he’s going to get married next year, and we celebrated his engagement.

I still had a few months left. I had until February. That was a lot of time.

I’d spend my time out in the fields, tracking the bison, collecting fur. I wanted to see if I could actually make a sweater like the Hawaiians make the 'ahu'ula, and so far, I could only get a cape going. Not even a cape, a collar. Winona wouldn’t go with me out to the fields, she was on a roll writing her book, and I absolutely respected that. When you’re on a roll, you’re on a roll, and nothing can stop you.

I very much dearly loved her, and I had delusions of taking her back with me to Florida to stay together. I didn’t want to do that to her, but I also didn’t want this to be just a fling. I didn’t know what to do other than collect data on the bison’s movements.

When it’s October, I tell her of my insecurities, and she immediately gets an idea in her head. She tells me not to worry, and leaves, saying that she’s going to run some errands. It wasn’t until later that I learned that those “errands” had to do with her preparing everything to leave with me. But at the time, I just thought she was going to make sure that when I leave, it’ll be heartwarming. It did end up being heartwarming, though.

That December, we’ve all decided to stay on the Prairie. They know that this will be the last time I’ll be here, and that I’ll soon be leaving. Holidays have taught me that time moves faster when you’re having fun.

On New Year’s Eve, Winona and I kissed for the first time, and five days later, her gift to me was the surprise of going with me wherever I went. She was finalizing her book as well, and thought that she should continue writing with me by her side.

I cried, for three days straight.


	29. Chapter 29

The American Prairie Reserve continues working to preserve land in the Midwest for future generations to appreciate it and for future animals to continue inhabiting it. Homesteaders and ranchers have worked to maintain their livestock in harmony with the other creatures in the Great Plains, hunting groups have worked to conserve wildlife habitats and to maintain viable gaming populations, and conservation and science-based organizations have worked to restore many native species of plants and animals.

The bison thrive on the lands, and the swift foxes also enjoy a full life on the prairie.

Winona Goodfox published her book, _The Bison and the Sioux_ , shortly after she left the prairie. She is now living with her partner in Florida.


	30. Postcript

Looking back on my time at the American Prairie Preserve, I have to admit that it was one of the best experiences of my life. I was able to study the bison and help contribute to their conservation. I got a girlfriend. I made many friends.

I’m currently back in Miami, with Winona by my side. She didn’t want to continue writing books by herself, so she hitched a ride with me.

Because of my time with the bison, I was interested in what else I could do for their bovine cousins. I found that many bovine species were either vulnerable or endangered, with several species critically endangered. I was tempted to go after the kouprey or the harnessed bushbuck, animals whose conservation status was unknown, thought evidence suggests that the kouprey could be extinct and that the harnessed bushbuck might be doing well in its habitat.

A chance trip to the White Oak Conservation in Yulee, I called my department and asked to be sent to Nigeria to find out what the situation with the giant eland were. They granted me this, and I asked Winona if she’d go with me. Two months later, we were already living Borno, NG.

I still kept in touch with the friends I made in Montana. Celeste was made the head manager of the bison conservation project, and I cheered for her from 7,042 miles away. I drank to her health, and imagined her as a great bison mother. I knew she would take care of them. They were safe now, more than before.


End file.
